


The Finer Points of Logic

by The_Epitome_of_Pretense



Series: To Boldly Write [1]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Conversations, Gen, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Logic, Philosophy, Vulcan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 08:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19002400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Epitome_of_Pretense/pseuds/The_Epitome_of_Pretense
Summary: Dr. Cobalt discusses the nature of logic with the ship's first officer.





	The Finer Points of Logic

Dr. Cobalt could feel Ensign Carmine’s eyes follow her as she made her way down the corridor. She clutched a Personal Access Data Device to her chest and hoped that he would not try to talk to her. She had just uploaded a collection of articles regarding Nineteenth century Britain onto the PADD and hoped to spend the evening reading in peace. The door to the crewmen’s lounge was within sight. She walked a little faster.

Just as she was about to round the corner, Carmine planted his hand on the wall in front of her. 

“You’re in a hurry,” he said. 

She struggled to think of a response. She certainly could not refute his observation. 

“Yes,” she said, avoiding his gaze. 

“Why don’t you have dinner with me tonight?” he said. 

“I’ve already eaten.”

“Breakfast then?” He cast her a knowing grin. 

“Please stop asking me. I gave you an answer weeks ago.”

“I’ll get you to say yes one of these days.”

_ Like hell you will,  _ she thought. 

“I find that unlikely,” she said instead.

He put his other hand on the wall beside her, pinning her between his arms. 

“You sound awfully sure of yourself.”

A chill ran through her blood. She steeled herself. 

“Step away from me. Immediately,” she said. 

His eyes traced over her as though he were weighing his options. Cobalt considered ducking under his arm and making a break for it. At last he dropped his hands and backed away. 

“You can’t run from me forever,” he said. “There are only so many places to hide on a ship this size.”

A wave of nausea overwhelmed her. Again she struggled to come up with a response. Before she could collect herself, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall; a moment later, Spock appeared. He walked with purpose, his hands clasped behind his back. Cobalt did her best to appear at ease. The last thing she wanted was to make a scene. 

“Do not ask me again, Carmine,” she said under her breath. 

She could not be sure, but Spock seemed to regard them from the corner of his eye. 

“We’ll discuss this later,” Carmine whispered.

“We will not. This discussion is over.”

Spock veered his course closer; there could be no doubt that he meant to talk to them. 

“We’ll see,” Carmine said, a feigned ease in his tone. He then turned on his heel and strode away. 

Spock approached just as he retreated. 

“Good evening, Dr. Cobalt,” he said. 

“Evening, sir.”

“It is fortunate that I found you. I just finished reading that Earth history article you recommended to me,” he said. 

She relaxed, glad for the distraction. 

“What did you think of it?” she said. 

“I found it very informative. The juxtaposition of the Enlightenment with the Romantic Era was especially interesting.”

“Yes, it really marks the shift from a collective viewpoint to a more individual—”

Carmine disappeared through the doorway at the end of the hall. Cobalt watched as the door snapped shut behind him. 

“—a more individual…” she struggled to remember her point. “Pardon me. I’ve lost my train of thought.”

Spock’s eyes flicked toward the door, then back to her. 

“I don’t mean to pry,” he said, “but has Ensign Carmine done anything that would warrant interference on security’s part?”

“No, no.” She hesitated. “I mean, not yet. Hopefully never. I appreciate your concern.”

“If you like, I could keep you company for a time. I would be interested in discussing the historical context of the article.”

“I wouldn’t be keeping you from anything important?”

“If I had a more pressing matter to attend to, I would not have offered.”

Cobalt could not tell if he intended the remark to sound sarcastic or humorous. 

“I suppose that is true. In that case, yes, I think I could use some company,” she said, leading the way into the lounge. “And perhaps a drink. Can I get something for you?”

“Whatever you have will be fine.”

She found a bottle of spiced rum and set two glasses on a low table in a secluded corner of the room. They settled into the chairs. 

“An interesting choice,” he said. 

“It feels like the right thing to drink on a ship. Even if that ship is in outer space.”

“A purely whimsical choice on your part?”

“You could say that.”

“Hmm.” He sipped his glass. 

“I suppose that must seem illogical to you.”

He raised a brow and glanced at her sidelong. 

“You could say that.”

Cobalt wondered if that was supposed to be a joke. She turned the drink in her hand and watched how the liquid shifted. Spock broke the silence. 

“I hope I did not misinterpret the situation earlier,” he said. “It occurs to me that you might have preferred Ensign Carmine’s company.”

Cobalt stifled a laugh. 

“No, I much prefer yours. I—” 

_ I feel safer with you,  _ she wanted to say. The impropriety struck her into silence for a moment. 

“What I mean to say,” she continued, “is that I admire your particular brand of logic.”

“You seem to be insinuating that logic is mutable. It is not.”

“Quite the contrary, if I may be so bold.”

He sat back in his chair and took on a thoughtful expression. 

“You may,” he said. “I would be interested in hearing your defense of such a statement.”

“I would be glad to give it.” She took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts. “The way I see it is this: all logic is a path from idea to idea to conclusion; however, it is not a starting point. That is the most important part, you see. More often than not, the starting point, not the path, is what determines the conclusion.”

“I disagree. If one follows a truly logical path, the same outcome is all but guaranteed.”

“That may be true for your people, but not so for mine. An individual’s upbringing, experiences, and predisposition can affect the logical path. And we mustn’t forget that all perceptions are extremely limited. As wise as any person may become, they are only one person with only one life to live. That is the case on Earth, anyway.”

“So you are saying that worldview determines how logical or illogical a person is.”

“No, not at all. I am saying that everyone is logical, with the caveat that their reasoning is based on whatever information they have. But some veins of logic are more harmful than others. Everyone follows logic. Even children. Even madmen. Even fools.”

“May I have an example?”

Her thoughts flashed back to Carmine. She tried to put the idea out of her mind; then again, it would make a good example. 

“Say I am a young man who wants to be physically intimate with someone I find attractive,” she said. “Then say I make a move and am rejected. To get what I want, the next logical step would be to take it by force.”

She tried to keep her expression neutral. The memory of how Carmine stared at her almost made her shudder. 

By the stern look in Spock’s eyes, she guessed that he knew more about her and Carmine than he let on.

“Ah, but resorting to violence would decrease the chance of a second encounter,” he said, “in addition to incurring the wrath of the legal system.”

“Ideally that would be the case. But given the nature of the crime, the victim’s word is usually the only evidence. To be cleared of all charges, the criminal need only accuse the victim of lying. And who can say that they were not? Without a witness, it is one person’s word against another.”

“That is a valid point. One could easily argue that the reasons not to commit a crime only go so far as the potential repercussions.”

“Exactly. And that is why I appreciate your logic. Because it comes from a place of selflessness, of doing no harm. You do good for its own sake, not for the sake of a reward or to avoid punishment.”

“I will take that as a compliment.”

“I hope you do.”

His look took on a serene expression that bordered on a smile. She wondered if it was just the rum making it seem so. She decided to excuse herself before she could say anything too foolish. 

“This conversation has been highly enjoyable,” he said. 

“Thank you.”

“I would very much like to talk with you again. Would you be interested in a game of chess at a later date?”

A faint blush warmed her cheeks. The rum was at it again.  

“Oh dear,” she said. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t stand a chance against you on a path of logic with so few variables.”

“You might,” he regarded her with a look that she could not quite read. “If my starting point was ensuring that both parties enjoyed the game and my conclusion was to wait at least seven turns before taking your queen.”

She blushed again. That would be the last time she tried to hold a conversation over a glass. 

“You make a compelling argument,” she said. 

“I think you’ll find the logic irrefutable.”

“It’s a date then.” Her stomach turned at the word. She got to her feet, hoping that he could not see the red on her face. “I don’t mean to run off so soon, but the drink has gone right to my head. Goodnight, Mr. Spock.”

With that, she started for the door. She felt his eyes follow her as she walked out of the lounge, but she did not mind in the slightest. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This discussion is one I've been having in my mind for a few weeks, and I thought "wouldn't it be neat to incorporate this into a story?" Using Spock and an original character as the vessels of this debate seemed like the next logical step. ;)


End file.
